


tasting honey

by sleepverses



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M, this became about accepting the love we deserve so...idk what to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25893556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepverses/pseuds/sleepverses
Summary: “So I had a sex dream about Zuko last night,” Sokka said offhandedly, and Suki nodded slowly before speaking.“You don’t actually have to tell me things like that,” she pointed out calmly. “Honestly, feel free to never tell me anything resembling that literally ever again.”
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 82
Kudos: 879





	1. Chapter 1

The Fire Lord's bedroom was draped in heavy, scarlet canopy, furnished with no doubt expensive, ancestral heirlooms, and likely teeming with state secrets. 

But Sokka couldn't focus on anything except the man hungrily watching him, his amber eyes swallowed by dilated black pupils. With his grip on his sake glass tightening, Sokka's gaze followed as Zuko's nostrils flared slightly, and his heart skipped a beat as steam softly billowed. 

“Sokka,” Zuko murmured, eyes hooded. Calmly, with the lithe movements of a sea-panther, he leaned in towards the man until their faces were less than a hair’s width apart, and he slipped the glass from his hand. When he leaned back, depositing Sokka’s sake onto the table with a soft thunk, a teasing smile played on his lips. “Get up,” he said. And when Sokka stood between Zuko’s loosely spread legs, sex radiating from his core, Zuko lazily sipped his wine, and after a lingering pause, spoke. 

“Strip for me.”

\---

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sokka keened, “Right there, don’t you dare fucking pull out, oh fuck, _Zuko_.”

This was not the first orgasm Zuko had strung out of him that night. Sokka’s hair was loose and strewn across the downy pillow he gripped tightly as above him, Zuko held his thick, tensed thighs spread open as he fucked him and fucked him. 

Sokka was drunk, and Zuko’s hand was on his face, and Zuko’s tongue was hot in his ripe peach mouth, wet and messy, licking and forcing soft groans out of him. Without thinking, his hands were stroking along the wide planes of Zuko’s bare broad chest, squeezing his muscled arms, gliding through his thick, long hair, cupping the nape of his neck and pulling him in flush, sinking deeper into the bed. 

Strangely, it was deeply gratifying to discover Zuko fucked the way he did everything else: with thoughtful, intent focus, as if he was channelling the powerful, undeniable energy of the dragons he had once danced amongst. And Sokka? Sokka knew his own prowess, recognized the intensity with which he romanced suitors, but this, he knew, was something else. 

Zuko’s hands, hot and big and strong, grabbed his ass, pulled him in tighter, whilst his lips dragged slowly down Sokka’s hot, flushed neck, leaving dark, vaguely smouldering kisses in their wake. Sokka was dangerously aroused, his dick leaking and his head dizzy, and his decision-making skills, already abysmal, were nowhere to be found with every drag of Zuko’s hard cock. 

He could taste the sheer want in the back of his throat. And when he finally climaxed, fireworks shooting across his tightly closed eyes, it was with the realization that he was covered in his own come, in his own bed in the guest bedroom of the palace, alone, and the victim of a wildly vivid dream. 

Spirits of Tui & La. 

A sex dream. He had had a sex dream. A sex dream about Zuko. _Zuko_. Only hours before he was due to be seeing his closest companion for the first time in a year, which by a number of ancient Water Tribe proverbs, sounded just about right. And he had a sex dream about Zuko. 

\---

“So I had a sex dream about Zuko last night,” Sokka said offhandedly, and Suki nodded slowly before speaking.

“You don’t actually have to tell me things like that,” she pointed out calmly. “Honestly, feel free to never tell me anything resembling that literally ever again.”

She ignored his responding pout, briefly standing on her tiptoes to sweep an assessing visual of the surrounding celebrations. The Reconciliation Festival was in full swing, with fiery red and lush green decor intertwined with vivid scarlet and twinkling blue furnishings strewn across the palace, marking the reunification of the Four Nations a decade after the war's end. Dignitaries, diplomats, and common folk mingled across the celebratory symposium, and Sokka knew it was in his better interest to keep his distance from the Fire Lord, at least for tonight. He was tipsy, and he was - let’s face it - a bit of a slut when he was drunk.

“So that’s why you’ve been avoiding him, huh?” Suki asked, like the mindfreak she was, biting back a smile as Aang pulled Katara onto the dance floor, and dipped her deep.

“Why does he look that good? He never used to look that good,” Sokka insisted, shooting a glance at Zuko from across the room. “Has he always been that tall? And... and smooth,” he added, watching as from a passing server, the Fire Lord deftly swept up a long stemmed wine glass for the Earth Kingdom emissary, laughing and smiling as they continued their apparently scintillating conversation. “Fuck. How long was I gone, Suki?” 

Suki covered a smile. “You’re that into it?”

‘Into it’ was putting it mildly, but Sokka was very much into it, if the it in question was Zuko, and how he was suddenly mind numbingly attractive. Zuko had always been handsome, a classic Eastern beauty, haughty nose, expansive eyebrow(s), royal cheekbones. Even his scar was devastating. And now he was easy and loose from the rice wine, pink cheeked and flushed, and Sokka's chest felt tight. And yet, it was not only his features that seemed to wildly unnerve Sokka, but everything; the strong, heavy stance of a powerful leader, confident in his own right, yet humble amongst his people and contemporaries; the easy way Zuko was able to tease good natured laughs and cheery sentiment from even the most gruff diplomats; the broad expanse of his back tapering to a firm, great ass and powerful, muscled thighs- 

“Yeah,” Sokka said, throwing her a sidelong glance and meeting her dark kohl-lined gaze, before his hooded eyes slipped across the room and found Zuko once more. “I’m into it.” 

There wasn’t a man alive who knew him the way Zuko knew him. For over a decade, the man had been his closest confidant, his intellectual and physical equal. His loins purred as his mind’s eye dragged over memories of Zuko washing after an intense spar, of Zuko feline stretching after an arduous meeting, of Zuko, choke-spraying his wine and laughing after one of Sokka’s bad jokes, meeting his eyes and trying to hide his gleaming grin with a hand as he wiped himself clean.

“I’ve thought about him whilst jerking off as much as you can before it starts getting weird,” he said, frowning slightly.

Suki closed her eyes and exhaled. “I’d put you on the wrong side of that line, but what do I know?” 

She was right. A year prior, he had excused himself from a late night meeting with Zuko in his private offices after they had spent hours writing up the decrees to send foreign provisions and aid to former colonies. After hour six, Zuko’s hair was loose over his shoulders, golden headpiece long forgotten, his bangs spilling softly over his eyes as he carefully signed the official document. When he spoke, warmly thanking Sokka for his efforts in reconciliation between the four nations, his voice was both rough and raspy, betraying the exhaustion concealed in his broad, stalwart frame. It also sent fire shooting between Sokka’s thighs, and his mind shot to the unimaginable magnitude of just how delicious morning sex with Zuko could be, with his big hands, and his raspy morning voice, and his laser focus, present even in the early hours of the dawn. And boom, just like that, with his friend poring over scrolls across the heavy wood table, Sokka was wide awake as the blood in his body rushed south, and his resolute hard-on threatened to knock the table clean over. 

But that was back then, and back then he reasoned that everyone masturbated to the thought of their best friend sometimes. And at the time, that reasoning seemed airtight. 

Sokka nudged Suki from their place along the far, curved wall of the vast, intricately designed hall. She glanced up at him and her eyes twinkled as she downed her dark liquor, without doubt enjoying Sokka’s exasperation at the current crisis.

“You’re still running point on palace security, aren’t you? Help me out, Suki, ex to ex. Is the Fire Lord sleeping with anyone?”

“What did you just say?” a voice asked loudly. 

Simultaneously, Sokka and Suki whipped their heads to find Toph staring wide eyed just off to their left, which for Toph, was a pretty decent estimation of where they would be standing. She opened her mouth to ask once more, but Suki lurched forwards and grabbed her arm, pulling her in tight. 

“He said nothing,” she said sweetly. “You heard nothing, Toph.”

“Right,” Toph drawled, shaking Suki's arm off her shoulders. “I definitely didn’t hear the honoured Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe asking if the Fire Lord was getting it or giving it regularly to someone-“

“For the love of-- yes, okay, fine, now shut the hell up before anyone hears you, shortstack,” Sokka hissed. “You think I need everyone involved in geopolitical affairs hearing me ask about Zuko’s love life?”

“What?” Aang’s voice was loud and excited. Suki began rubbing her temples. 

“Sokka!” she said, pinching the slope of her nose. “Keep your voice down.”

“I don’t think Zuko’s dating anyone, and I think you have a real chance,” Aang mused. 

Toph scoffed. “Yeah, if Zuko got hit in the head with a brick.” 

Sokka stared at her, ignoring the muffled sounds of Aang and Suki’s laughter. “Thanks, Toph,” he said mildly, and then turned and nudged Suki. “I don’t know if you remember this, but we dated, so that was a little bit of burn on you, too.” 

“The same way the love of your life burned down my village?” Suki deadpanned. Sokka rolled his eyes. 

“Ha. Ha. You’re. So. Funny. And just because I want to take a ride on the Fire Lord’s dragon doesn’t mean he’s suddenly my soulmate,” he replied, amused at Suki and Aang’s twin faces of disgust before his world came crashing down and Zuko spoke from behind him. 

“Hey guys!”

“Zuko!” Sokka shouted. “How much of that did you hear?”


	2. coming home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! here is part 2! thank u so much for reading!!

There were a few things Sokka knew to be true. 

Like how once, when he was seventeen, he had been vaguely irritating an ostrich horse when the animal reared back in a haze of furious panic and swiftly kicked him dead-on centre in the chest, following the blow with a devastating array of stomps to his groin, and at least one to the back of his skull. As a result, the details of the incident were fuzzy, like why he had been in the vicinity of such a vicious creature, or what he had done to offend the ostrich horse so, but Sokka had never once forgotten the beady eyes of the useless bird animal that had wronged him, nor the feeling of the wind being kicked forcefully from his chest. 

That feeling was back now, and Sokka tried desperately to reckon with his growing panic. Truthfully, the emotion was at war with the raucous joy of seeing his best friend, who wrapped him in a tight hug, thumping him genially on the back. The man that stood in front of him was tall and broad shouldered, with long raven hair spilling down his muscled back, and he had foregone all Fire Nation insignia, save for his topknot crown. Sokka’s cheeks were pink, from both the drink and the feel of Zuko’s hard, broad body pressed against him. As he clumsily stepped back, Zuko shot out a hand to steady him.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully, shooting pointed looks at their friends, urging them to disappear. Public humiliation was one thing, but public humiliation in front of friends who would gladly bring it up til his dying day was a whole other. “Man, it’s good to see you, Zuko!”

“My dragon, huh,” Zuko said, meeting Sokka’s eyes as he took a level sip from his wine. His palm was a brand against Sokka’s forearm. 

His gaze did not waver. 

Sokka’s mouth opened, closed, and then opened once more, his blood rushing so loudly he was certain Toph could hear, given the smirk on her stupid chickenrat face. His panic felt palpable, a sheer overwhelming wave, when a curious thought slipped across the foreground of his mind, rocking his being to a standstill. 

Was Zuko flirting with him? The Fire Lord had yet to look away, his lip slightly lifted in a precious, half-knowing lilt, his good eye narrowed in a seemingly challenging, yet expectant stare. Before Sokka could embarrass himself further, however, Katara had suddenly appeared, looping her arm in his and beaming. 

“Are we talking about Druk? Zuko, I can’t believe everyone else has met him except for me and Aang, it’s kind of ridiculous.” 

Sokka found his voice. “You say that now, Katara, but wait til you have a fucking dragon the size of a lion turtle in front of you,” he said dryly. 

Zuko sighed. “He’s not the size of a lion turtle, he’s still a baby. And I thought I heard you say you wanted to ride him, or were you interested in riding something else?” he asked, raising his brow. 

Sokka chewed the side of his tongue. Tasted blood.

Zuko was flirting with him. 

Only the finest imported Earth Kingdom wine was responsible for what Sokka said next. Later, he told himself, he would remember the words that slipped out his stupid fucking mouth, and try valiantly to murder himself with his boomerang.

“Some rides are just more...satisfying than others,” he said. “And I’m an adrenaline junkie. What can I say?”

“I’ll just bet,” Zuko rasped quietly. His eyes raked slowly over Sokka’s cut figure; Sokka was delighted.. “You look good, by the way.”

Sokka resisted the urge to beam. Instead, twisting a lip into a conspiring smirk, he shot a wink back at the man, who broke into a laugh.

“Got keep making the rounds. I’ll find you later.” A strong clap on Sokka’s shoulder and he was gone. 

The silence following Zuko’s departure deeper into the crowds populating the courtyard lasted approximately five seconds, every bit of which Sokka savoured. 

“I don’t know why I thought we were joking around before,” Aang remarked. “But now I know we definitely were not.” 

“Okay, Aang,” Sokka said. 

“That was a war crime. Sokka, I can’t believe you made us witness that.” His sister glared at him, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks, Katara.” 

She wasn’t wrong. Sokka had told her, on no uncertain terms, that no matter how fine he was with her relationship with Aang, he had no interest in seeing any clues to their scale of intimacy. There was something that itched at his skin watching public displays of affection; it was no surprise Katara felt the same way.

Sokka glanced around. 

“Hey, where’s Suki?” he asked.

After quite a bit of drinking and after quite a bit of searching, he found her leaning against the wrought iron frame of a balcony overlooking the winding party, the dancing people, and the hanging lights. Suki was iridescent in the flush of the night, catching his eye and raising her brows slightly in response. Sokka half smiled to himself, smug as he slung his arm around her shoulders. 

“When did we lose you?” 

“Got out of there while you two were busy very obviously mentally stripping each other. I saw what I needed to see.” 

“So,” he said, after a moment. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“Is that so,” Suki replied. 

“What if,” he began slowly, “what if this is just like, me projecting onto Zuko?”

“Really, Sokka?” she groaned. “After what you assholes put us through back there?” 

He resisted the urge to break into a beam. It wasn’t in his imagination, then. Zuko had definitely been flirting. 

“Don’t be so smug, jackass.”

“Can't we just accept that I am a flawed and imperfect human being?” 

She chuckled and ducked out from under his arm, plopping herself onto the balcony’s overstuffed velvet loveseat. Suki patted the burgundy cushion beside her, and for a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the lilting music of laughter and dancing in the streets. She would not press him, instead sitting by him, and waiting for him to be ready. Love came in many forms, Sokka knew, and what he had with Suki was understanding on a deeper, cosmic scale. 

“You wouldn’t remember that one conversation we had where you said I hyper-fixate and form inappropriate crushes on inappropriate people so I just don’t have to be alone, do you?” he said, very casually.

Suki paused, and tilted her head into a quick shake. “I never said that. I said you hyper fixate and cause problems for yourself. That last bit though...” she shot him a glance, bit her lip. “Do you not want to be alone?”

“I don’t know if anyone wants to be alone. But I’m not alone. I have all of you guys, and my tribe back home, and my gone but never forgotten space sword, and my sweet, sweet boomerang,” he said with an air of solemnity.

“Forgot how terminal your case of deflection is.” 

“Yep.” 

“Yep.”

“But Zuko,” he said, with a wry smile on his lips. 

“But Zuko,” she agreed. “Sokka. You know this is different from your usual flings, right?”

“This is different,” Sokka repeated. “ He’s the head of a country. There’s a lot at stake here. Almost too much.” 

Suki waved a hand quick. “Not like that, I mean,” she explained. “Different as in, there’s no one who knows you the way Zuko knows you. Different as in, you two have over a decade of friendship under your belt. What I’m trying to say-”

“She’s right, you know,” Katara said, nodding sagely. 

“For the love of fucking-,” Sokka wheezed, massaging his chest. “Katara?”

“Sokka, can I tell you something?” She ignored his outraged fumfering, squeezing herself between her brother and his ex-girlfriend, and crowding him into the worn arm of the loveseat. Despite her small frame, she towered over him, her hands on her hips, and he leaned back, raising his brows. 

“I think you’re great,” Katara said earnestly, and stifled a hiccup.

“You didn’t have to come here to say that. You could’ve said that from over there.”

“She’s had a lot to drink,” Aang said, balancing one handed on the iron frame of the balcony. 

“And it’s 100%, totally, absolutely, 100% okay if you’re too scared to get with Zuko,” she continued, shrugging haphazardly. “I always knew I was the brave one.”

Sokka glanced at Aang. “You need to get your girlfriend away from me.”

“She’s your sister.”

“Yeah. And you need to get her away from me,” he said. 

As Aang opened his mouth, a young woman waved and caught their attention from the courtyard. She waved once more, and her tightly coiled curls bounced along her high collar. 

“Ambassador Sokka!” the woman called. “The Fire Lord requests your presence.”

“Hey, Suki,” she added with a smirk. 

“Hey, Aoki."

Sokka reared his head back, glancing at Suki before waving down to the woman, whom he now recognized as the elusive Head of Palace Staff. “Thanks!” he called. As he shoved Katara off and away, he grinned cheekily at his ex-girlfriend. “So you’re into HBICs, huh-“

“Alright, Boomerang, get the hell outta here,” she said, flipping him off. As he turned to leave, he felt her grab a leg of his pants and tug.

“What?”

“Don’t be afraid, Sokka,” she said, and half-laughed, shaking her head and raking a hand through her hair. “Just- just trust yourself. And lean into it.”

He nodded, letting loose a deep exhale. “Lean in. Got it.”

It was not long before he found Zuko in the parlour of his royal quarters, sipping a dark liquid from a sweating glass, one of two, Sokka noticed, perched on a patterned wooden tray alongside a crystal decanter. 

Deja vu, he thought, his lips twisting. He almost said something, made a dumb joke Zuko wouldn’t get, probably just look at him in that bewildered way he sometimes did.

Instead, he said nothing, picking up the heavy decanter and slipping the lid off, pouring a generous amount into the glass Zuko had set aside for him, and topping off the glass in Zuko’s loose grip. The man raised the glass in a somber, almost cheeky toast, and threw it back as Sokka’s eyebrows rose. 

“Should I leave you two alone?” he asked, amusement colouring his voice. 

“No,” Zuko gasped, one hand draped across his eyes, the other sliding the back of his hand roughly across his mouth, not quite wiping away the dark remnants of wine staining his lips. Sokka bit back a smile; Zuko looked as if he had been a recent, fervent guest of a bordello three roads off a back alley in Ba Sing Se’s lower ring. “What a party, huh?”

“You must have the liver of a 70 year old man.”

“At least I don’t have the alcohol tolerance of a fifteen year old girl.”

“Wow, the Fire Lord’s got jokes, huh?” Sokka teased, breaking into a laugh as Zuko reluctantly grinned. He could see the tension begin to bleed from Zuko’s shoulders, but he watched, dismayed, as the man abruptly stiffened once more.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Uh, yes,” Sokka replied. “Sure.”

“Do you remember your first Council meeting?”

His nerves vanished, and he let out a laugh. “How the hell could I forget? Didn’t you fire someone?”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “I asked for his resignation; there’s a difference.” 

It had been a few days into Sokka’s tenure as Ambassador in Caldera when disaster struck off the coast of a small trading region in lower Fire Nation territory. Usually a welcome blessing, the rainy monsoon season had taken a harried, devastating turn, flooding acres upon acres of farmer’s crops, the torrential rainfall and winding winds levelling homes and storefronts of locals. As Ambassador, Sokka held a seat in the Fire Nation’s Council, and he had been privy to the Emergency Disaster Response meeting called post-haste. 

The meeting was long and arduous, funnelling well into the night. When one of the Fire Nation’s most esteemed advisors wearily suggested no disaster recovery response to the region, or perhaps aid delivered, but taxes raised on the lower ring to then offset costs, the fiery lanterns lining the council chambers had plumed, throwing shadows across the room, and the table had slipped into a deathly silence. Zuko’s shoulders were stiff, and smoke billowed from his nostrils. 

“I will not tolerate a dialogue on the merits of allowing civilians to die, especially on the basis of enforcing austerity on the working class, and furthering uninterrupted privilege and tax benefits for the upper ring,” he said quietly, his fingers steepled. “I want the emergency federal aid proposal in writing and on my desk tonight.”

Sokka had watched, captivated as Zuko levelled a glare at the man. “Advisor Lee, consider yourself immediately relieved of all advisorial capacities. I expect your resignation in the morning.”

Sokka had kissed his teeth as Zuko abruptly stood and swiftly departed through the heavy oak doors of the room, nodding as he passed the two women standing guard. Later, Zuko would surely suffer the consequences of his decree. It was an unpopular decision, and the Fire Lord would certainly lose favour amongst the elite and the upper echelons, but it was no doubt necessary. With advisors like Lee, it was a slippery slope once more into colonialist and authoritarian politics thinly disguised as altruistic patriotism. 

Zuko’s jaw tightened. “I saw that man tonight. The way he looked at me...the decision I made back then - do you think it was the right one?”

“Don’t do that,” was Sokka’s immediate response, surprising Zuko enough for him to slip his hand away from his eyes and meet Sokka’s stern gaze. 

“I mean it,” he said seriously. “Don’t start second guessing yourself now. You made the right decision. This is the only path forward.”

Zuko sighed. “I know. And I knew that changing the Fire Nation wouldn’t be easy, I knew it came with undoing decades and decades of colonialism and imperialism. I knew it wouldn’t be overnight.” 

He watched as the man rubbed a weary hand over his face, watched as Zuko reached up and slipped the headpiece out his bun, watched as he worked a hand across the tense muscles in his neck. Sokka’s chest ached. Heavy the head that wears the crown, he thought wryly. 

“You know, we’re a decade in and some days it feels like things haven’t changed at all,” Zuko continued tiredly. “Some days it feels like nearly everything we fought for, everything we fought tooth and nail to gain has been stifled in the name of bureaucracy and bullshit.”

Sokka grabbed Zuko’s hand, held it tight and fast. “I know you know that’s not true. I know you’ve seen the magnitude of what we’ve accomplished,” he insisted. “That’s just the burnout talking.”

Zuko grunted and leaned heavily against Sokka’s shoulder, shoving his face against his neck. Sokka resisted the urge to shiver, instead twisting a finger lazily through the ends of Zuko’s thick mane. 

“This is the work,” he said simply. “This is what we committed to when we were still just kids, remember? But Tui & La, Zuko. The Festival tonight is just the beginning. There’s still so much left to be done, to fight for, to celebrate. So you need to take care of yourself. Need you for the long haul, you know?” 

“That’s why I have you.”

Surprised, he looked down at the man. “To take care of you?” Sokka asked, bemused. 

“No,” he answered, lazily twisting up to meet Sokka’s eyes. “I look at you, and you just- you remind me of the bigger picture.”

Sokka swallowed. How did he do that? How did Zuko dive into the deepest parts of him so easily, so unbearably enchantingly? Did he know that Sokka would die for him, kill for him, live for him? The enormity of his want surprised even him; what had started out as a wanton sex dream revealed feelings he didn’t even know he had, intensified by time and distance, fit to bursting the moment he had caught a glimpse of Zuko across the courtyard. 

“I missed you,” he said helplessly. “I didn’t know I could miss someone so much.”

Zuko’s gaze was heavy and unyielding. “Nothing was the same without you. I couldn’t sleep. Could barely eat. I don’t know if I can survive without you around.”

“Don’t say that.”

“My world is a vastly better place with you in it. Tell me you know that.”

Sokka’s mouth was dry, and he tried to force a laugh, instead eliciting a throaty chuckle. “I don’t know about all that.”

“No,” Zuko murmured, “but you should.”

Slowly, Sokka realized, the immense danger they were in began to register. They were much too tipsy. Or at least, Sokka was. He suspected, however, despite Zuko’s apparent masterful tolerance, with the amount he had drunk, the man was likely (also?) inebriated. They were also sitting close. Much too close. Sokka could detail each one of Zuko’s eyelashes, could trace Zuko’s cheekbone with his nose; he could lick the seared skin of his scar. 

This close, he could smell Zuko’s heavy sandalwood scent, mixing headily with the clove cigars he knew the man enjoyed, an expensive Earth Kingdom import. Sokka had never wanted anyone so viscerally before, and he held the violence of his desire heavy under his tongue, soaked in the sun bath of his frank desperation. 

“We sure have some history together, don’t we?” he mused softly.

“We do,” Zuko said, strangled, and very slowly, began administering a torturous, focused campaign of kisses against Sokka’s neck.

Zuko’s touch was electric, and too soon, blood was rushing to his dick. He was wildly thankful the parlour was lit only by flickering candlelight; Zuko didn’t need to know how close to the edge he had already dragged him. His blood thumped loudly in his ears, and his breath caught in his throat, and Zuko was drowning him. 

“Okay,” Sokka wheezed, holding back a whimper as the man’s teeth dragged along his throat before he continued his slow ministrations of softly kissing and sucking. Never one to uncomplicatedly appreciate a good thing, Sokka had to ask. 

“Zuko, what the hell are we doing?” he said haltingly.

“You know what we’re doing,” Zuko hummed. 

“Do you want to know what I’m thinking right now?”

“Yeah, give it to me.” Their eyes met, and Zuko snorted. “You know what I mean.”

“The one thought running through my head right now: Tui and La, I’m going to just ruin this,” he said honestly.

Zuko winced. “Okay. Gonna be honest, that’s not great. Why?”

“Because I ruin things, Zuko!” he exclaimed. “I ruin things. I ruined it with Yue, and she turned into the moon, and I ruined it with Suki, and now she’s a lesbian. I ruin things, okay? And you’re the Fire Lord, and this...this is a bad idea.” 

Zuko’s face softened, and Sokka resisted the sudden incomprehensible urge to cry. He swallowed harshly, his eyes flicking wetly up to the high, glistening chandelier above. Look at him, ruining things. 

“Sokka,” Zuko said softly. “Sokka, look at me.” 

He shook his head, screwing his eyes shut like a petulant child.

When Zuko touched him, his cool, dry hands cradling Sokka’s face, it was as if the sun poured its liquid being into his marrow. It was all too much, and yet not enough. He wanted Zuko closer, he wanted Zuko far away. He wanted Zuko above him, and underneath him. He wanted to swallow Zuko whole, he wanted Zuko desperately inside him. He wanted to wake up next to Zuko in the middle of the night, sticky with Caldera heat, and count the years shaved off his face as he slept. 

But Sokka was also very afraid, and he was unwilling to say it, expose the cracks and the seams and all the spots that had never quite healed. And though he couldn’t express himself, he knew Zuko knew, and more than that, Sokka knew Zuko understood, and that made all the difference. 

“In my culture,” Zuko said slowly, “all life is intricately tied together, in a tapestry of sorts. So when we move from the physical plane to the spiritual, all the love and energy we carry within ourselves is reborn. And in that way, the ones we love never really leave us.”

He stroked a thumb along Sokka’s high cheekbone, coaxing his glistening eyes open. “Yue lives on in you, Sokka, and all whom she loved. Even when the moon is hidden, she watches over you.”

“Sokka. Son of Southern Water Tribe Chieftain Kya. Warrior. Hero. You’ve never ruined a single thing in your life,” Zuko whispered, a soft smile quirking his lips. And then he paused, and considered. 

“Well. I mean, you are pretty terrible at game nights, and you can’t hold your liquor to save your life. But let’s be honest. You did not make Suki a lesbian. Suki was already pretty gay when you first started dating,” he deadpanned. “You don’t grow up on an island worshiping Avatar Kyoshi and come out straight, Sokka, come on.”

Sokka snorted wetly. “I know I didn’t make Suki gay. Sexuality is fluid as hell. I was panicking and I just really needed to be dramatic.” 

Zuko laughed, throwing his head back, and Sokka caught the movement of his throat, the peaks of his easy, wide smile, the slow hooding of his feline eyes as they watched one another. 

_This was love, wasn’t it_ , he thought. Under his nose all along. Couldn’t lie and say he was too surprised. Usually he felt as if he was smitten far too easily, the curve of a stranger’s smile shallowly luring him into the depths of a warm body and a warm bed, but this...this felt different. An unavoidable path he had eagerly dove into headfirst whilst his feet were encased in ice. 

(In the back of his mind, Sokka made an awful joke about vaguely knowing just the right firebender to fix that for him. Not for the first time that night, he wondered distantly why Zuko would be even remotely interested in the mechanisms of his mortifying brain.)

And so they sat silently, cradled against each other. He wasn’t sure when his hands had fisted in Zuko’s robes, flushed against his firm sides. One of Zuko’s hands had slipped from his face, curling round the flushed nape of his neck and teasing the loose hairs unfurling from his ponytail. 

“Sokka,” he said. “You changed my life. I would follow you anywhere.”

Sokka heaved a breath, his fingers tightening in Zuko’s heavy robes, and he heard Suki’s voice in his head, ringing like gently guiding bells. _Just trust yourself._

_Lean in._

And so Sokka did, pressing a warm kiss against Zuko’s lips, and savouring that first taste of his mouth, tasting honey, dripping and gold and bursting with new tomorrows. 

Later:

Zuko caught his finger in one of Sokka's thick bone earrings. "Should we fuck tonight, do you think?"

Sokka swallowed thickly. "I'm obviously not going to say no, but I don't know if I'll survive."

Even later:

Sokka's nipples were dark and pretty, and Zuko found an obscene amount of pleasure in sucking and teasing them. His half bitten off moans were a lilting music. 

“If I don’t come soon I might die,” he gasped, his fingers clenching tightly around Zuko’s biceps. 

“You'd better come for me, then, ” Zuko whispered. 

Even more later, like years down the road later: 

The door to the study creaked open, and Sokka waited patiently til Zuko lumbered over, loosely draping his heavy weight over Sokka’s shoulders, curling a possessive hand around his neck and dragging his mouth along the curve of Sokka’s jaw. He leaned back against Zuko’s stalwart frame, tipping his head back til his mouth found his husband’s, and Sokka groaned as Zuko’s thumb found the corner of his lips and pushed him open further, licking hard into his mouth. 

Sokka pulled away a little and squinted, his eyes flicking to Zuko’s slick mouth, and the thin line of saliva connecting their lips before frowning. “I need you to explain to me how your morning breath is worse than Momo’s, and Momo doesn’t brush his teeth.”

“Thanks honey, that’s really sweet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the response to this was surprising, especially considering i recognize this work exactly for what it is; self indulgent waterlogged gutter trash. and after getting it out of my system and letting it loose into the wild, i totally intended on forgetting about it and moving onto the next fixation of my quarantine! which i'm still hoping to find actually so if you have any good shows that genuinely aren't terrible lmk! 
> 
> stay safe and healthy, sending you all love. thank you for reading and being so wonderful in the comments! i'll get back to you all soon!


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